The Rivendell Wrapping Co
by laurawesome
Summary: A mix up of epic proportions. Panic reigns in Middle Earth. What could have possibly happened? Legolas has lost the plot, Elrond has lost the will to live and Arwen has lost the end of the sticky tape. The wrong sort of elf is trying to wrap the planet's presents, and it's all because Father Christmas didn't pay attention in Geography. - Parody


So this is just a bit of fun inspired by a maths problem involving elves wrapping presents. I thought of Middle Earth elves instead of North Pole elves, and the idea for this was born. It's about as far from being serious as you can get.

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**Disclaimer**

**No. No, I am not J.R.R. Tolkien, and please don't sue me.**

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Christmas is a busy time for elves.

There are toys to be made, gifts to be wrapped, reindeer to be groomed (reindeer are remarkably vain).

The busiest time of an elf's year, Christmas is.

There's a sleigh to be polished, lists to be double-checked, a fur-lined coat to be dry cleaned (you can't just put that sort of quality fur in a washing machine. It simply wouldn't do).

For the elves of the North Pole, Christmas is a very, very busy time indeed.

Unfortunately for the population of Middle Earth, Father Christmas is crap at geography.

'Pass the sticky tape, Glorfindel.'

The elf in question rolled his eyes, but handed the tape to Elrond.

Elrond peeled a piece of sticky tape off the table and secured the wrapping of the parcel on the table in front of him. He then pushed the parcel to his left, where it was picked up by Erestor and inspected to ensure all the paper was properly stuck down.

'You're getting rather good at this, Elrond,' said Erestor, as he observed the perfectly wrapped present. The red snowflake-patterned wrapping paper had been lined up so that the edges of the paper matched and the join on the underside of the parcel was virtually undetectable. 'Rather good indeed.'

'We _have_ been wrapping Christmas presents almost constantly for the last month or so,' Elrond grumbled. 'Who is responsible for this again?' he asked, collecting the next present from the elf on his right and repeating the wrapping process.

Erestor frowned as he tried to recall the name of the deranged man who appeared in Rivendell a few weeks ago. 'I believe he calls himself "Father Christmas" or "Santa Claus".'

Elrond finished folding, stuck down the tape and glared at no one in particular. (The elf on the other side of the room was a little terrified as they received the Eyebrow Glare of Ultimate Intimidation.) 'I don't like him.'

'I don't think anyone in this room likes him,' Erestor chuckled, 'perhaps with the exception of Legolas.'

'He does seem to be enjoying himself, doesn't he?' Elrond said distastefully, glancing sideways to where Legolas sat at the end of the production line.

'I think we may have to send word to Thranduil if this carries on much longer. It can't be healthy,' Erestor replied, giving another parcel a thorough inspection before passing it along to another elf. That elf wrote the name of the intended recipient on a tag, then handed it to the next elf, who attached the tag to the gift, then passed it to the next elf, who ticked the gift off a list. The elf sighed, and reluctantly passed the present along to the end of the line.

Legolas sat proudly in his chair at the end of the production line, surrounded by rolls of ribbon and stick-on gift bows. The sparkly red and gold ribbon he had carefully woven into his hair glittered as he tilted his head from side to side, considering which shade of green ribbon best complimented the pale gold wrapping of the present on the table in front of him.

'Do you think the pine tree green or the moss green looks best?' Legolas asked the female elf next to him.

The elf groaned and buried her head in her hands, attempting to use her long hair to create a curtain between herself and Legolas' ribbon obsession. It didn't work, for earlier in the day he had handed her a length of silver ribbon and instructed her to weave it into her hairstyle and she could see a glint from the damned ribbon out of the corner of her eye. 'Does it really matter?' she moaned.

Legolas looked stricken. 'Does it matter?' he shrieked. 'Of course it matters! Every single present must look fabulous, do you hear? _Fabulous_.'

'What about this gold, then?' the elf asked, picking up the roll of shimmery golden ribbon that was perched on the right armrest of Legolas' chair. 'This would look rather fabulous.'

Legolas looked up from the present he was currently styling with a pine green ribbon (he decided the richer, leafy hues of that particular roll brought out the subtle caramel tones of the wrapping paper better than the moss green did) and slowly turned his head towards the she-elf who was running the golden silk ribbon between her fingers. The red and gold ribbon sparkled in his hair as Legolas whipped and arrow out of the quiver that was for some reason still on his back and nocked it to his bow. (Not the pretty, decorative kind, the 'fires arrows that could kill you if used with any degree of accuracy' kind of bow.)

'Put the ribbon down,' he said quietly, aiming his arrow directly at the elf's head. Her eyes widened in terror.

Everyone in the room froze.

'You think they'd learn not to touch the gold ribbon,' Elrond sighed.

'This is the sixth time today,' said Erestor. 'I'm sending a message to Thranduil when I'm on my break.'

'Probably for the best,' Elrond agreed.

It had taken the combined efforts of four elves to restrain Legolas and to remove his bow and arrows from his grasp. The elf who had suggested using the gold ribbon was escorted out of the room and the gold ribbon was replaced in its rightful position on Legolas' chair.

Now that his prized silk ribbon was back where it was supposed to be, Legolas calmed down and went back to his 'fabulousify-ing' of the gifts being passed down the production line.

'What do you think,' said Legolas to the replacement elf next to him, 'about a sky blue bow and ice blue ribbon curls?'

The elf groaned and rested his head in his hands.

The production line restarted, and soon the Sixth Legolas Incident was forgotten. All that could be heard was the snipping of scissors, the scratchy sound of sticky tape being unrolled and the quiet chatting of the elves as they worked. The sacks at the end of the line grew fuller and fuller as more presents were wrapped and ribboned and packed away into the bags to be loaded onto the sleigh.

Considering the situation, the atmosphere was remarkably calm.

'_We've lost the end of the sticky tape!_'

'I give up,' said Elrond.

'They may find it yet,' said Erestor. 'There is always hope.'

Near the beginning of the process, a team of elves cut small pieces of sticky tape from industrial-size rolls and gave them to the wrappers further up the line. Unfortunately, the end of the roll had been lost and had seemingly vanished.

'We're never going to find it.'

'We may yet.'

'No we won't, it's hopeless!'

'It has to be somewhere.'

Arwen and the rest of the elves on tape duty all began to feel around the roll of tape, trying to find the end. As no more sticky tape could be cut until the end was found, the production line slowly ground to a halt.

'What do we do if they can't find the end?' Erestor asked Elrond.

Elrond replied flatly, 'we cancel Christmas.'

Hundreds of elves from all around the room turned to look at Elrond.

'After all the time we've spent wrapping these presents for that crazy old man with the beard,' Glorfindel growled, 'you're going to cancel Christmas because we couldn't find the end of the sticky tape?'

Elrond scowled slightly. 'Yes.'

'_Find the end of the sticky tape!_'

Two dozen elves descended on the giant roll of sticky tape, turning it around and around.

'I've got it!' Arwen yelled joyfully.

'Christmas is saved!' cried Glorfindel.

'I can tie more ribbons!' Legolas cheered.

The elf next to him began to sob.

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How about leaving me a little review? Festive spirit and all that. It would make me very happy :D


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